All is One, One is All
by tootooroo
Summary: Riza Hawkeye was eleven when she was first told about the fundamental of alchemy.


_Riza Hawkeye was eleven when she was first told about the fundamental of alchemy._

* * *

Aunt Christmas always said that he took actions faster than his thought. In some cases, that trait of his came with great advantage. But in the others—which meant _most of the time_ —all it could do was shoving him into trouble.

Just like this time.

When Master told him to stay off his study room unless Roy managed to finish his paper on the Tria Prima, he should had obeyed him like any pupil with enough common sense would do.

But Roy was a young city boy.

Roy knew no common sense—well, perhaps he did, sometimes.

But not now.

Not when Riza wasn't home a few hours past the time she should had been.

Let alone the time—the fact that Riza Hawkeye being late itself was unusual. Roy was nowhere near being a worrier, anyone could easily pick that up. Yet, things had always been different for him if it involved her.

His alchemy teacher was too absorbed in his research to pay her any heed—or anything in general, to be precise. That summed things up; if he didn't worry about her, perhaps nobody would.

 _(He thought it came out of pity and common courtesy. But just weeks later Roy realised that he cared for her genuinely.)_

Subsequently, being fully aware of the concequences that may or may not follow, he put his rational thoughts aside and confronted his master _right in front of his desk_. A reckless move, yes, but in Roy's defense Master would definitely not pay him any attention if he didn't do so. And he needed to find her, take her home before the night—and whatever lurking in its darkness—came.

As expected, his teacher wasn't quite happy about that.

So after being yelled at (for bothering him with such trivial thing and not finishing his paper) and kicked out (of his study room, both figuratively _and_ literally), there he was, worried and confused.

He didn't even know where he was—and having been in the village for almost a year didn't help either, since he had never actually done any sight-seeing before. He almost blamed it on his master's strict teaching schedule.

Right. So there he was, worried _and_ confused _and_ _lost_.

His attempt on finding Riza had been futile so far. Also having to seek his way home was the last thing he needed.

Hence, he just paced forward and let his instinct took the lead—hoping that he would miraculously find her, or the way back home, or both. But the further he reached, less houses and more trees entered his field of vision. Roy cursed under his breath.

He slowed down, looking around as he hiked. The sun was getting low. One or two villagers nodded at him when he caught their eyes, whom he smiled and nodded back at politely. Roy thought of asking them for directions, but after some consideration he chose not to. Aunt Chris taught him not to trust strangers easily, after all.

Averting his eyes from the villagers, Roy saw a familiar blonde down the hill, a few hundred meters off the road— _path?_ —he was standing on.

 _There you are._

His face brightened up in relief and excitement.

Without second thought, he rushed towards her—but upon realising the place they were currently at, his dashes slowly turned into careful, almost noiseless steps.

Riza was crouching down in front of one of the graves around them with her back facing him. She hugged her legs tightly—so tight that she looked like she could make herself disappear by doing so. Roy couldn't see her face, but he bet her eyes were fixed on the writings;

 _Elizabeth Hawkeye_

 _1865 – 1896_

Roy vaguely remembered the name— _did Master mentioned it at some point, or was it written somewhere in the house?_

This person was definitely related to her. By seeing the years and doing the math, Roy could guess who she was to Riza. He was almost sure that this person was the one who shared her blonde hair and big brown eyes—the one he saw in Riza's only family portrait, which she kept dearly in her bedside drawer.

He walked to her side and lowered his body.

If Riza was aware of his presence, she said nothing—that explained the long silence they exchanged.

He extended his right hand, brushing dirt off the tombstone. It surprised him that he didn't waver. Roy may looked calm and collected, but in fact he was currently shifting through so many thoughts in bewilderment.

What should he do? They should head home as soon as possible, but at this state there was no way to convince her to head back home with him. Leaving her alone is out of question, either. What should he tell her? Should he offer encouraging words, or would they just insult her? She had never actually told him about this! What if—

"… _could alchemy bring my mother back to life, Mr. Mustang?_ "

It was an honest question.

Roy could't help but flustered. He wasn't expecting that—especially when he had nothing appropriate to say.

"No!" His reply was louder than he expected. "Wait—I meant, we don't know yet… The thing called human transmutation is considered a taboo, and so far there is no record of succeeded nor failed attempt on it. That doesn't necessarily mean nobody had done it before, but—"

"I miss Mom…"

Her voice came out almost like a whisper. But that was enough to halt his rambles.

He bit his lower lip.

Those words may sounded usual—but when they came from her, he knew it was a big deal. The young Hawkeye wasn't the type that would blatantly open up to anyone. His months of apprenticeship taught him enough regarding that matter.

So Roy made sure he said his next words carefully, trying his best not to hurt her feelings—practically betraying her trust as well.

"All is one, one is all."

 _Yes, Roy Mustang. What a comforting words to say to a grieving girl._

Riza turned her head to face him. Her honey eyes still reflected sadness, but Roy noticed a glimpse of confusion and inquiries in her gaze. _She is a curious girl, after all_.

"Well…" he grinned nervously, "It is one of the basic principles of alchemy. I read about that back in Central when I was your age—younger, I suppose. Pretty sure your father has the same book in his library."

Seemingly unsatisfied, Riza glanced back at the tombstone. The lower half of her face were then hidden behind her knees, but her gaze remained fixed.

Nothing escaped her mouth afterwards.

Roy rubbed his neck in anxiety. "Yeah…. 'All' means the world, and 'one' means any other living being in it. It could be you. Or me—us. The book has a three-chapters-worth of explanation in it, but that's how I understand the concept.

"You know, I lost my parents too, when I was younger. Both of them."

Her eyes grew wider as she beamed at her companion. The boy shrugged and continued,

"It's okay. I'm fine now—but of course, by then, I wasn't fine. I thought the world was being cruel. They… my parents were the center of my life at that time, and it just had to take them away from me _just like that_."

The sounds of screeching tires and rainfall dripping on a broken windshield crept into his mind. He tried his best not to wince.

"I thought everything was over, then. I thought my world had shattered into pieces and nothing could bring it back together. I thought the universe would stop moving."

Shifting his position several times, he finally sat down, legs crossed. Both hands supported his weight as he leaned back and stared at the red sky above them.

"But guess what?" he continued, "It didn't. The radio broadcaster still update the news every morning. People still does their works. Aunt Chris, who took care of me afterwards, still told me to go to school after missing it for nearly one week. The sun still rises and sets everyday. Everything went on normally, as if my parents' incident had never happened.

"That was when I realised, people are just small parts of a grander scheme—the world itself. A tiny change won't stop the world from keep going."

Riza furrowed her brows, trying to grasp what she had just heard. "That makes our existence seems insignificant."

The black-haired boy chuckled. He leaned forward, his forefinger caressed a flower that grew right in front of the tombstone.

"Beautiful petunia. You planted this?"

She nodded. "Her favourite."

"This flower is a proof that we're not meaningless."

"What does that even mean?"

Roy took a dried petal from the ground. He twirled it several times before continuing,

"When this flower dies, you can say that it will become one with the earth. But the process doesn't stop there—it will be broken down into smaller pieces. Carbon, hydrogen... and a lot of chemical components that build up a single entity.

"And those chemical compounds will be used up by plants growing on its soil. That plant will be eaten by certain animals, which will be eaten by its predator. It will eventually reach us, human, at the top of the food chain. So technically, the said _dead_ flower gave us _life_.

"The same process occurs when we die. We will be broken down and used by new living beings after us—the cycle goes on and on. That's what make the world keep going."

Deep creases formed between Riza's eyebrows. "So what you're trying to say is that we're a part of the world, and the world is a part of us as well?"

"Exactly."

The little girl furrowed and looked up—a habit she always did when she was thinking thoroughly. "It's rather an... intricate concept."

"Doesn't mean it's not understandable, though."

A wave of relief washed over him when he saw her vague smile. It was so subtle that one could had missed it even if they paid enough attention.

"Does that mean my mother is here, within the flower—or even, within me?"

He nodded in reassurance.

A few minutes passed in silence. But unlike the previous one—it was a comforting silence, the one you shared when no words were needed.

The one you shared with someone whose presence was more than enough to soothe you.

"Very well..." His voice broke through the night. Roy got onto his knees and patted his pants several times to clean it from the dirt, "It's time for us to go home, shall we?"

He turned around and took a few steps, waiting for his companion to get up as well. But when she didn't, he turned back and called, "Let's go."

"No."

Roy shot her a questioning look. "What's wrong?"

She peeked from her shoulder shyly. Roy could had seen the redness on her ears, if it wasn't for the clouds covering the moonlight. "...it's dark out there..."

Roy gaped. Was his ears tricking him? Or did the girl who could do house chores way more proficiently than he could, the timid and shy girl with the biggest pride he'd seen, _the_ Riza Hawkeye, just confess that she was afraid of the dark?

He thought of laughing out loud, mocking her right there and then. But—Aunt Christmas' spanking aside, if she ever found out—Roy knew better than being a bastard, especially when he recognised the pure fear in her voice.

 _Perhaps that's why she always sleep with her lights on_ , he mused.

So he just walked closer and offered his hand. Riza looked at him as if she was examining an unnatural creature.

A sigh escaped him, "This gesture is known world-wide as _just kindly take my hand_ …" He sneered before adding, "… _Little Lady_."

"And why, _Sir_ , should I do that?"

Roy rubbed his chin with his free hand, "Well… I thought it would be better if we could run together. So that I won't leave you behind just in case we encountered a—"

The tight grasp on his hand made him winced in pain. "Take it easy, will ya? You didn't even know what I was going to say!"

"That's it, Mr. Mustang!" Riza said as she stood up—her hand still holding his, "We never know what's wandering in the dark. That's what make it scary…"

He was puzzled for a brief moment. Shooking his head, Roy said, "Let's just go home now," _before your father starts thinking that I kidnap his only daughter, and thus, piling up my punishment,_ he added mentally.

The two kids left the cemetery, hand in hand.

"You know…" This time, it was her quite voice that broke through the tranquil night, "…you are bad at comforting someone, Mr. Mustang."

Roy was ready to object—but when he saw her calm eyes, his silly annoyance melted away.

"Thank you," the girl gave him a thin, yet genuine smile.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how to respond to that. That was why he just tightened his grip on her hand.

Before the boy realised it, he had been smiling sheepishly and lost so deep in his thought.

Because he was sure Riza had been calling him several times before he actually paid her any heed.

Under the moonlight, he saw her pouted and stared at him in displeasure. "Are _you_ even listening?"

He quirked a brow, "What's that for?"

" _We're heading the wrong way, Mr. Mustang."_

* * *

 _I hope it wasn't too rushed. Really, I just needed to unleash this fluff from my head. And I was bad at writing hurt/comfort nooooo Dx_

 _Review?_


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